


The Betrayer

by rynthewin



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Role Switch, it was painfully and scarily easy, the goal of this was to make them in character while still being in the other's role
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-29
Updated: 2017-02-27
Packaged: 2018-04-06 17:25:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4230486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rynthewin/pseuds/rynthewin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tom Riddle does not understand friendship or love—the psychiatrists his dentist parents paid said so. However, he had been taught things he could understand: loyalty, paying people back for their aid, and helping people who can help you. So when Harry Potter is killed in the Dark Lady's revival, Tom prepares a plan to save Harry so that he can defeat her once and for all as per the prophecy. However, Ron's grief-fueled mess up of the plan led them back unprepared to the school days of Hermione Granger.</p>
<p>However, plans that Tom and Ron had not been aware of has left Harry alive and in Dumbledore's care. Harry goes back into the past to bring his best friends back, but...</p>
<p>"Over her school years. Miss Granger learned to tell people what they wanted to hear," said Dumbledore, "and she was very passionate about her campaign. That was what made her rise to power so insidious. She could convince people that they were saving their families, their lives, and liberating them from the Statute of Secrecy. She truly saw Muggles as tyrants, and she was good at convincing others of the same. And for those that didn't care or disagreed, well, she offered them power, recognition of their talents, or outlets for their cruelty…"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 01

AN: after working on this fic since 2013 and it being my April Camp Nano fic, I'm finally posting it! I just got up today and razed through my plot problems so, here is the first chapter! My goal of this fic was to see what happens when you do timetravel fic with Tom and Hermione's roles switched--but keep them in-character as much as possible, considering the other's life circumstances. It's been a difficult challenge but ultimately worth it. 

* * *

 

 

The tournament cup was supposed to portkey the champion to a platform in front of the crowd of students anxiously awaiting to see which school would win. However, the excitement and anticipation of the students began to fade and morph into concern as Fleur Delacour and Viktor Krum left the maze, but Cedric Diggory and Harry Potter never arrived. It only seemed to grow as the assembled staff began to get up and enter the maze personally. 

 

"C'mon, let's get closer to the exit," said Ron, and the slight drop in his voice indictated his obvious concern. Tom wasn't terribly worried, but he nodded and followed Ron down the stadium stairs, weaving through the thick crowd of students the milled around. The questions everyone asked each other all seemed to be the same: where was Potter and Diggory? The two fourth years reached the edge of the stands closest to the maze entrance. From this vantage point they could see McGonagall speaking with Madam Maxine, and both of them separating to go into opposite directions of the maze.

 

"Harry probably got tangled in something dangerous, and Diggory stopped to help him. He'll be fine. Madam Pomfrey is right there, and a St. Mungo's mediwizard is right next to her. Besides, I've been training him all year on how to deal with potentially dangerous situations. He'll be fine," said Tom, gesturing over to where the green-robed mediwizard and Hogwart's healer stood by the platform. Tom was saying it more to reassure Ron than himself--he had a feeling that it wasn't quite that simple of an explanation, now that all the teachers were getting fidgety--but Ron wanted the assurance and seemed to relax a bit. But not completely. They both were aware of just how much trouble Harry Potter could get himself into. When Harry came back and told him about something else insane, he'd buy a leash for him and Ron to keep them close and out of trouble.

 

There was the loud crack of Apparition, and everyone turned to see that Professor Dumbledore had appeared next to the champion's platform. He looked ashen, and each of his hands was holding onto the wrist of a sprawled out body on the grass next to him. 

 

"Harry!" shouted Ron, both of them recognizing the person laying on Dumbledore's left side. Ron all but climbed over the parition, and Tom shoved about a dozen students to the ground--as if he cared if he hurt them, he owed them no loyalty--as he hurried out and ran towards the group. Tom's stomach dropped to the ground even before he managed to run over, as Madam Pomfrey had knelt next to Harry and put her hand over her mouth in shock and distress.  _Laid out on the ground, Madam Pomfrey looks horrified but isn't moving to heal him, and Professor Dumbledore's expression..._ ran through Tom's head like a mental checklist.

 

But Tom didn't even have time to make the mental calculations of what that could all mean before both of the boys ran over to Harry and found Harry with his green eyes staring blankly, as if he'd just been surprised unexpectedly. 

 

"What happened?" demanded Tom of Dumbledore, spinning on him as Ron chokingly repeated Harry's name over and over again. Tom didn't know what he was feeling--it was mostly anger, followed by shock and then a cold fury that someone had dared kill someone that was his. " _What happened to him?!"_  he shouted over the teachers who were trying to speak to Dumbledore, pushing them aside so that Dumbledore would have to look at him and address him.

 

He expected Dumbledore to ignore him as usual, but he turned his attention to Tom. He looked sad and old, something that he'd associated with the headmaster. "The Dark Lady has been resurrected. I was too late arriving, and--"

 

Dumbledore didn't even get to finish his sentence before the people within hearing distance of him began to panic. Tom didn't even mind Dumbledore's obvious dismissal as he turned his attention to the Diggorys--Tom realized then that Cedric Diggory was also dead, but he didn't care about that except that it only painfully reinforced that Harry had been murdered, and by the bane of the wizarding world for the past several decades.  _Resurrected. She was back._  


 

He felt someone put a hand on his shoulder, and he normally would have jerked away, but he heard, "Mr. Riddle, Professor Dumbledore has asked me to take you and Mr. Weasley to my office." He looked over and the normally stern and cool woman was clearly holding back tears.

 

"No, I won't leave him!" shouted Ron, and that was clear even amidst all the chaos and that feeling of dissociation Tom was experiencing. 

 

He reached out and grabbed Ron's wrist. "Ron, you can't do anything for Harry here. We should go with Professor McGonagall and figure out what to do."

 

"What can we do!?" demanded Ron, grief morphing into anger. 

 

Tom ignored him, looking down at Harry's corpse staring with hazy green eyes, and the feeling of being removed from reality began to burn away--in not hot anger, but something cold and nasty that Tom knew would simmer. And he'd happily use it as fuel. "There's always something we can do. We have before, and we can again," he told Ron, and he couldn't hide his anger at the feeling of someone having stolen something that was his, someone he'd been bound to be loyal to for saving his life. He kept his promises and followed his own code of ethics, and he would now too, dead or no.

 

Ron looked at him, his face as red as his hair and tear-streaked. Ron had always been spooked when Tom hadn't been able to hide his real feelings in the past, or had guessed he was lying, and this had been a source of contention for years between the two of them, with Harry in the middle trying to placate them both.

 

But there was no Harry anymore. And Ron, rather than being repulsed, nodded jerkily, wiping his face as he stood up to follow the deputy headmistress. 

 

Tom turned his head to look at Professor McGonagall, but his eyes instead met Professor Dumbledore's. The headmaster looked wary and distrustful, the sparkle in his eyes gone not just from the deaths. 

 

"Mr. Riddle, do not do anything rash," said Professor Dumbledore as the two boys left to go, and then immediately turned back to dealing with the terrified crowd.

 

  
_I'll do what's necessary,_  thought Tom, more stalking behind Professor McGonagall than walking.


	2. Flashback 01

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The fic was a personal challenge for me to have a role reversal au in which Tom and Hermione are both still in-character so I have some flashback scenes I will be posting occasionally to illustrate.

_**Tom Riddle’s Journal, age 9** _

My therapist asked me what I defined as friendship. I honestly didn’t know what to say, as I’d never wanted friends so I hadn’t thought about it. It seemed rather pointless. Honestly, the whole thing seems so silly. You deal with people and do things for them in order for you to hope they do things back for you? I am perfectly capable of doing everything myself.

I don’t think my answer pleased her, and I know it would upset my parents. But unlike them, Helen remained calm and professional. I like that she doesn’t show her reactions to what I say. I tried to explain to her that my time is valuable. 

"Friendship isn't selfless," I told her. I've been thinking about this for a long time. "No one just likes people just for them--it's based on giving and taking. It's like hedonistic calculus in philosophy. If people give too much, they're suckers. If they take too much, they're selfish. Both causes you to lose friends. So why does it seem I'm emotionally lacking if I don't engage in such behaviors?"

I can read thoughts, sometimes. They hit me sometimes out of the blue--I've been trying to perfect the technique to do more mind reading but it's still hit or miss. I "heard," however, that she was impressed with my brilliance and clearly the genius level intelligence I scored is well-deserved. I want to scoff--of course I'm brilliant, but even a monkey can parrot a book they'd read. Quoting philosophy is not that impressive.

Of course, however, is the assumption on her end that I display "lack of empathy" and "social disengagement." It's not wrong, probably, but I hate the stigma associated with it, as if I'm going to become the next Hitler--even if Helen didn't think that, it'll eventually come up in her head at some point.

My parents talked to her about it, I think. They have always been concerned at my lack of social interaction. Helen says she talks to them that I feel and interact differently with people, but they don’t really get it. I wish we’d actually discussed something important, like where I’m going to go for secondary school or that I haven’t been progressing in being able to do magic.

Helen nor my parents know what to make of me being able to do magic. Undoubtedly, I’m special—perhaps like Matilda, I’m such an intense genius that I can will things to do what I want. Helen knows I can do it, as I made her pen float one time to prove it. When that wasn't enough, I made the parakeets in her office dance in unison. 

I like her because she doesn’t ignore my magic like my parents and tries to talk to me about it. She wasn't afraid of it, though she asked me not to control her birds. 


	3. Chapter 02

Meanwhile, as Tom and Ron were escorted to Professor McGonagall's office, Harry was being hugged heavily by a very worried Sirius and Remus at Grimmauld Place. They hadn't managed to get him to talk yet, except to chokingly tell them the Dark Lady was back again and that Cedric was dead. Just painfully silent hugs and neither of the older men felt equipped to handle the situation facing them--they'd have given anything to have James and Lily there. 

Finally, though, Harry started talking, almost muffled by Sirius's jacket as he was held tightly. It had felt like the words had been stuck for the past couple of hours, wanting to come out, but there had been a wall. But the dam burst, and he finally could talk.

"I don't know how I'm alive," he said, his voice starting out low and getting higher and louder with distress. "She avaded me and for a moment there was this white, bright place--it looked like King's Cross but it was completely empty. And then there was Cedric and Mum and Dad and _oh god they were there all together on a bench_. And I'd just seen them before when her wand started showing ghosts and the people she'd killed. Mum and Dad kissed me on the forehead and told me I needed to go back to both of you." Harry started to choke up with tears but he wasn't alone in his distress as both Remus and Sirius had tears streaming down their cheeks. "And Cedric too. He was there and he told me that I wasn't dead yet and I had to go back. He told me to live for him.” Harry was shaking in their arms but he knew that Sirius and Remus couldn't comfort him.

"Again," said Sirius, looking so relieved that Harry wondered if Sirius would fall apart if he did ever actually die. "I found you in the wreckage of James and Lily's house alive but injured and I am so relieved to see you lived again.” His expression wavered as if he was close to tears and Harry realized yes, he would.

Harry didn’t know how to explain to them that he had actually died. He didn’t understand himself how he managed to survive the Killing Curse again—not that anything about that evening had made sense. The memory was so horrible that it seemed unreal.

_He watched in horror as Wormtail put the monstrous thing in the cauldron, followed by the bone of her father, Wormtail's severed hand, and then...his own blood, cut open from his forearm and collected in a vial._

_When that last ingredient had gone in, an enormous cloud of steam rose from the cauldron and covered the whole graveyard. He desperately prayed for her to drown, hoping that he wouldn’t have to witness whatever that potion would do to her. And, slowly, the steam cleared, and Harry was horrified to see the outline of a skeletally-thin woman next to the cauldron wearing simple long robes. Her face was broken by an intense grin, looking in awe at her limbs and new body. Slowly she became more revealed as the steam cleared, like a turn for the worst in nightmares. A high, triumphant laugh pierced the night, feeling like the stab of a knife through his scar and making him whimper in pain._

_She glanced up, red dots in the darkness, and then began moving towards him. As she grew closer the pain in his scar was so overwhelming that black dots danced in his vision but he couldn't turn away from the sight of her. Her hair moved of it’s own accord, writhing shadows so that he almost through she had snakes for hair—but no, it merely looked like Medusa’s in the dark._

_“We meet again, Harry," she said, her cadaverously pale skin stretched too tightly over the hand that almost reached out to touch him, her claw-like fingernails so close that only the sheer tightness of his bindings kept him from recoiling. Her smile grew triumphant at the sight of him in pain. "The time has come to rectify the problem you have become. But first I have things that I must take care of..."_

_Turning away from him gave momentary relief from the pain, but he found with the concentration his eyes darted back and forth between her and Cedric’s crumpled body in the dark. She came to kneel next to Wormtail, who was curled up and sobbing while clutching the stump left of his arm. "Peter," she said, "calm yourself. Hold out your arm. I promised that I would give you a far greater arm for the one you lost."_

_He did, sniffling, in too much pain to be terrified. Her too-pale lips were in a thin line as she carefully unwrapped the bloody stump from his robe. Her distaste for Peter was visibly obvious, far more than disgust at the blood, but Wormtail was crying too hard to notice. She pulled a wand from her robe pocket, and just for a moment looked at it as one would a dear friend they have not seen in a dearly long time. But the moment faded and she waved the wand above the stump of an arm. A molten silver arm formed like a glove even as she stood again, wiping the blood on her black robes._

_"My Lady," he said, "it is beautiful. Thank you."_

_He kneeled at her feet, and she placed her eerie claw hand on his shoulder. Harry, from his angle, could see how his eyes widened in fear. "Rise. While I do not trust you--your utter betrayal of the people you grew up with certainly will translate to betraying us if you think the situation is right--you alone found me. Let no one tell you that you are not a Gryffindor. Your rewards for aiding my rebirth will be great. But first, the celebration party must have guests.”_

_She grabbed his other arm, twisting it so that the underside was facing towards her. There was a dark tattoo of a skull with the snake coming out of it’s mouth, inflamed and raw like it had just been burnt on. "The others must have noticed their marks growing darker--now we will see who will prove their loyalty to our cause to be true. This is a night of rebirth! Not just for me, but for our cause. The tide will turn again in our favor to control the Muggle infestation. This will hurt, but it is for a greater cause.” She took her wand and put it to the tattoo, and the smell of burning flesh filled the graveyard. Wormtail screamed then sobbed._

_She let Wormtail go to let him collapse to the ground again and turned back to Harry. She walked over, close, and Harry wanted nothing more than for her to step back away from him. "Harry, you are tied to the memorial to my late Muggle father. It's fitting, really.” Her smooth expression scrunched in anger, very visible on the too stretched-thin skin, at the memory. "It is justice, in a way, that he helped my revival, considering what suffering he caused. It is unfortunate that you must die, but I don't think I could convince you of the error of your ways. You're a resourceful young man and you could become great, with the proper training. Muggles are the bane of existence to all wizards but Dumbledore has his hooks too deep in you to get you to change your mind. Such a pitiful waste."_

_"You are just angry at your father!" he shouted at her. "I'd never work with you."_

_"You sorely underestimate me. Do you think the cruelty of one man would fuel my complete faith that Muggles are dangerous? Oh no, and considering your aunt and uncle, I would think you'd agree. Muggles fear what they don't understand--and magic is a far greater concept than Muggles can appreciate."_

_That stung painfully—and that she knew that at all concerned him--but then there were loud cracking sound, then another shortly after, and then the graveyard was filled with the loud sounds like gunfire all in the graveyard._

_She gestured to those arriving. "Behold, my true family, and those that shall help save wizarding kind!"_

_Dark hooded figures, wearing metal masks, came forward into a semi-circle around the tombstone. "My Lady," many muttered, some crawling to kiss the hems of her robes._

_“Cease your kneeling. Rise and return to your places. We have much to discuss,” she said, and they all quickly rose and moved back._

_She stode among them, her hair coiling around her head, wild shadows with no real tangible form. “Do not be alarmed by my appearance. I went to great lengths to make sure I was immortal, but all plans have drawbacks,” she said calmly, almost soothing. "Considering the lack of resources and aid at my disposal, this was the only option left to me. The Dark Arts is simply going against the grain of the laws of nature, and nature punishes us by making us into what humans fear as to deter us. I am still the witch you remember.”_

_”But,” she said, her voice suddenly harsh. Her eyes glowed far brighter, like flames lighting up the inside of her skull, her hair flaring in anger. "What concerns me far more is the fact that_ all _of you present tonight left me to wander as a shade for thirteen years, forced to possess the bodies of animals to survive! I ask all of you: how do you explain yourselves?” There was palpably uncomfortable silence._

_She reached out suddenly, and grabbed someone by the throat by one hand. Despite her being shorter than him, the Death Eater was clearly frightened. “How about we begin with you, Lucius? All the sacrifices I make for all of us and you run into your manor at the first chance to hide like a dog with your tail between your legs? Not that you were alone in your cowardice."_

_The crowd visibly moved away from the pair, and Harry could hear the hoarse terror in Malfoy’s voice. “My Lady, had there been_ any _word I would have been at your side in an instant, as well as many of us--"_

_She pushed him away and Harry could hear Malfoy gasping in the dark. “Did all of you think that I would not rise again? Did you think that one setback would ruin me? You all swore eternal loyalty to our cause, and I to serving it as well—and you, the generation that was to create a wizarding culture as that of days long old! I am but an instrument of power for the vision we created together. I have dedicated my life to protecting your families, your legacies, and the future for your descendants from the scourge of Muggles! And yet only a handful of you stayed true. So many of you claimed to have been bewitched, coerced, lied to in the trials and halls of the Ministry. You slithered back into polite society with seemingly not a care.” No one wanted to stand near her as she strode around the ring._

_“Mistress, please, forgive us!” begged someone, breaking the silence and falling to their knees. “We never forgot! We always believed! Where were we to look? Others looked but no trace of you was left.” He sobbed at her feet, and there was a moment where she trembled with rage, and Harry wondered if she’d hurt him._

_However, she surprised him when she sighed. “Get up, Nott. Truly, as angry and as betrayed as I feel, we needed people in society to make sure that the Muggle-lovers didn’t go in and destroy what is left of our beautiful world. It would be of no use to us if only blood traitors were around to continue their lines and teach their families the old ways of dark magic and tradition. And I was foolish in not making a backup plan in the event that something should occur to me. Don’t worry, after tonight, we shall be far more prepared in our renewal. I will live forever, but I will make sure our cause remains strong with or without my presence."_

_Nott scrambled over back to his spot, not even standing up till he was back in the circle again. She ignored him, walking amongst the group, “I grew careless as I grew more powerful. There is a damaging overgrowth of self-confidence when you become one of the most powerful witches alive, whether it naturally occurring or hard-earned. I used to be a woman who planned everything and then had three backup plans, and I shall have to learn to be that woman again. It is what you deserve, I deserve, what the glorious cause deserves,” she said, then glanced towards a large empty spot in the circle. "Above all, however, it is what those who made the ultimate sacrifices in the name of purity deserve, such as the Lestranges or Dolohov. We will not fail them, will we?”_

_There was a murmur of agreement that they would not. As her rage seemed to diminish, so did their fear--but never completely. Harry doubted anyone forgot what Lady Voldemort's wand could do to them._

_“And for those missing who are too cowardly to face us," she continued, "we will get them back threefold. And, not lastly, one of our most loyal aided me this year at Hogwarts to bring us a very honored guest for our renewal. I believe most of you have heard of Harry Potter?”_

_She pointed her wand and the fire under the cauldron rose, licking high around the edges of it, blinding Harry momentarily by the brightness. Shocked exclamations and rapid whispering rose up immediately as she walked over to where he was tied up. At her approach the pain in his scar flared up again._

_“Yes, he is here, I made a grave error that fateful All Hallow’s Eve. I forgot that there is magic far older than even wands that moves through our veins, popping up at the most unexpected moments. My confidence in my skills got the best of me. Lily Potter, at her death, sacrificed her life for her son. The love in that protected him—so you can lay your fears to rest about any secret powers of this boy, and your wonders of if he would be a Dark Lord to take my place at the helm of our cause. He was merely very lucky to have a loving mother…and it was a pity that I forgot the power of sacrificial magic. And until tonight, the love in her sacrifice protected him from me. I was unable to even touch him. However,” she said, a smile coming to her face, her shadow hair seeming to writhe in pleasure, “with the help of Wormtail, a spell I made, and the blood of the enemy that felled me before, I could create a body to house the shade I had once been. Not ideal, but this body has a small perk that I find worthwhile…"_

_Harry had no time to realize what she was doing before she put two fingers to his forehead over his scar. He screamed, his vision white from pain, and he almost didn’t hear her laughter._

_“Symbolism is how we create hope and it is why ritual and tradition is so powerful! And that is why tonight we celebrate our renewal with the reverse of what occurred that fateful night—a sacrifice at the alter of magic to free us from the tyranny of Muggles and blood traitors! Come, come forward,” she said. “Let it be that when our history is written as the victors that no one can claim that the execution of Harry Potter went unwitnessed!"_

_There were cheers raised into the sky, and with a delighted grin at their triumphant cries she raised her wand to the sky. Harry looked up at the green skull floating in the sky and realized, with a numb sort of stillness in his chest, that he was going to die. As the Death Eaters crowded around him, exuberant about his death, his thoughts turned to those he was leaving behind. He felt bad that he wouldn’t get to live with Sirius as he’d wanted to do, see Hogwarts again, fly a broom, play anymore Quidditch, or any of the small things that he’d come to love about his life in the wizarding world..._

_But it was thinking of Ron and Tom that made his heart sink. He felt guilty for leaving them behind. He hoped that they knew that he loved them and would watch over them in whatever was on the other side._

_“Hermione Granger,” said Harry, meeting her eyes as her wand came down to point at his chest. “You will never know love and friendship like I have. I hated you before but knowing that makes me just pity you in the end."_

_She seemed shocked as their eyes met briefly, Harry holding onto it even despite the burning pain of looking at her. For just a moment, Harry thought maybe she looked slight grief-striken, but it so quickly became fury that he decided maybe it hadn’t even been on her face at all. “AVADA KEDAVRA!"_

_And there was the bright green light of his dreams and he opened his eyes to sitting in a white, empty King's Cross station..._

_Until he heard his name, as if from far away, and in following it. He ended up opening his eyes to find himself in the graveyard still, on the ground in front of Herman Granger’s tombstone. Professor Dumbledore holding a lit wand over him, tears trickling down his face. When he realized that Harry was alive and looking at him, he choked, “Oh thank Merlin, I was afraid you were dead.” Harry couldn’t have been more surprised and yet moved when his old professor scooped him up in a hug._

_“Professor, what happened? She sent the Killing Curse at me but then I was in King’s Cross and—"_

_“Harry, my appearance made them scatter but I am afraid they may come back to see if they can fetch your body. She cannot know that you are still alive, so we need to move quickly. I promise, once I have everything settled, we can talk."_

_“What do you mean she can’t know?” he asked._

_“We will be faking your death, Harry, and preparing you to face her again—for when you’re older. I have much to tell you,” said Professor Dumbledore, holding his arm with one hand while still holding his lit wand with the other. Before Harry could say anything more, however, they apparated._

Finally, as he finished telling the bits and pieces of that evening that he was able to share that night, he looked up at them and asked, “Where is Professor Dumbledore?"

“He’s at the school taking care of the aftermath,” said Remus. “He faked a body for you and went to take Diggory back to his family."

Harry felt his stomach drop. “Cedric asked me to get his body back to his family. I’m glad Dumbledore is doing it for me.” 

Harry sat down on the old, dusty couch in this rotten old manor. However, at that moment he didn’t care where he was as long as he wasn’t in that graveyard again, though he did wish for one more thing. Sirius and Remus were wonderful and he was so glad to be alone, but remembering what he’d thought were his last moments made him desperately miss his best friends. They’d been with him through everything and they’d figure out how to handle this all together. “Ron and Tom are going be so upset before they find out that I didn’t die after all. When can they come to see me, since I’m staying here?” 

Sirius ran a hand through his hair and Remus sighed before they glanced at each other, not saying anything to Harry. 

“Like, I know they may not be able to during the school year, but maybe during the summer?” he asked. 

Remus was the first to speak. “Harry, they can’t know. Only the three of us and Dumbledore know you’re alive at all, and the less people that know the safer you’ll be."

“What!?” he demanded, jumping up from his seat. “They’re my best friends! There’s no way that I can just sit here while my best mates think I was murdered!"

And a familiar voice said from the hallway, “There was already a spy at Hogwarts, Harry, and I’m afraid that there will be only more now that the Dark Lady is revived. We cannot risk them mentioning you being alive potentially for the wrong ears to hear it."

Harry spun around to face Dumbledore. “Professor, they’ve been with me through everything! I can’t just abandon them."

Dumbledore came over to Harry and put his hands on his shoulders. “You aren’t abandoning them, Harry. You will be doing the best thing for yourself and them by staying safe. You’ll be spending your time here training and preparing for fighting Voldemort—which with her gone will mean that Ron, from a family of known blood traitors and Tom, a brilliant Muggleborn, will be safe from her tyranny."

However, even as Harry looked mutinously furious, Sirius jumped immediately into anger. "Train him? He's a fourteen-year-old boy!"

"I've been facing her since I was eleven. That's not the problem! The problem is that my friends, who have been facing her with me, won't know I'm even alive," said Harry.

Dumbledore glanced between them for a couple of seconds, and then sighed. "Harry, Sirius, please understand. Someone set up the cup to take Harry to Voldemort tonight. If it had not been a chance of luck thirteen years ago then Harry would be dead. There...there is a prophecy concerning Harry. I am sure of it now that it concerns him. He _must_ be ready to face her when the time comes."

"Prophecy?" asked Lupin.

Professor Dumbledore took a deep breath and then recited "The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lady approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lady will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lady knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lady will be born as the seventh month dies."

There was silence in the room once Dumbledore finished, everyone stunned into silence. It was Harry who recovered first.

"I'll train. I don't mind that, but Ron and Tom--"

"They are much safer where they are now, thinking you are dead," said Dumbledore.

That shut Harry up, though reluctantly. He wanted to protect his friends and never wanted them to be in danger. But they had always been loyal to them and he could trust them through and with anything. It felt like a betrayal to lie to them. And, also, a big part of him wondered if he even _could_ do this without the support of his friends. He felt very alone without them there.

"Absolutely not, prophecy or no," said Sirius. 

"Sirius," said Lupin quietly. "Even if Harry never faces her, it will be safer for him if he learns to defend himself. It is inevitable that he will go out sometime--and then he will be facing her."

Dumbledore nodded. "This is true. However, I will say this--Harry is the best hope we have in defeating her. And now we have a chance to prepare without her being aware."

"Professor," said Harry, "how was it that I survived? She casted the Killing Curse and I know it hit. I died--I was at King's Cross and saw everyone I knew who had passed away. What kept me alive? How did I live again?"

"Harry, my boy...that night that she tried to kill you, your mother sacrificed herself to save you. Before that night, when Hermione Granger was a teenager, she began making dark objects called horcruxes. It involved committing murder to split her soul and then placing them in objects in order to me immortal. However, she made several and her soul was most likely unstable. That night, two things occured: your mother sacrificed herself, which is necessary in creating a horcrux. The second was that she turned her wand on you and tried to kill you. The spell that backfired split her further, and she made another unintentional horcrux: you. You did die, Harry, but the part of her soul that lived within you was what died."

"Oh Merlin," said Sirius, his voice shaky. "A piece of her soul was in Harry?"

"It is the only logical explanation. We have located one horcrux already, albiet unintentionally--the diary she left that possessed Mr. Weasley. Harry's parseltongue abilities, which Miss Granger inherited through her familial line, most likely came from her. Then, lastly, tonight, which proved to me beyond a doubt that this was the case." 

His face, already serious, became much more grim. "However, it also means that Harry has lost two very powerful defenses against her. First, her taking Harry's blood means the protections left by his mother are gone. Secondly, the warnings you got from your scar will no longer occur."

Harry, honestly, was very relieved about that. Well, less about the loss of his mother's protection--it was like he'd lost another little bit of her--but the connection that made his scar hurt when she was nearby was a big relief to lose. He'd actually be able to think and concentrate if she were nearby, maybe, though it also was a lost defense.

"Harry," said Dumbledore. "I am asking a favor of you. I ask that you stay here and train to prepare for the inevitable war that is coming. You are in more danger than anyone, and your presence would put Mr. Weasley and Mr. Riddle in more danger."

Harry reluctantly nodded. "Will you watch over them and make sure they're safe?"

There was a pause and a slight dimming of the twinkling in his eyes that Harry didn't understand before he said. "I will be keeping a close eye on Mr. Weasley and Mr. Riddle."

It would have to be enough.


End file.
